


Help Me Hold On To You

by mmmwddd



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Hunger Games, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmwddd/pseuds/mmmwddd
Summary: After coming back from the Hunger Games last year Mickey didn’t think that it was possible for the capitol to take anything else from him, after this year’s reaping he finds out how wrong he was.Hunger Games AU
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I watched all of Shameless in like three weeks then watched the Hunger Games and I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head so I decided to write it. I’m really sorry if there’s any spelling/grammar mistakes and I hope you like it!
> 
> The title is from Archer by Taylor Swift

———————

Mickey stops for a moment and listens for the buzz of the fence, more out of habit than for any other reason at this point. He’s been alive for seventeen years and coming to this part of the fence for at least eight of them and not once in that time has he ever heard the buzz of electricity to indicate that the fence actually works the way that the government and local peacekeepers swear that it does. It’s no surprise really, that in the district used to make the peacekeepers’ uniforms the government would rather use the electricity to power the factory than the fence surrounding the district, as if they already know that even if somebody manages to get out and tries to actually run they won’t make it far, wouldn’t have anywhere to fucking go. And he’s grateful for the oversight, honestly, can’t imagine life without ever being able to escape from the grime and noise of his district.

He knows that other districts are made up of mostly fields of grass, or forests of trees, or at the very least surrounded by them, but apparently living in the district responsible for textiles essentially means growing up in a cramped, industrial shithole. Even the area surrounding the district outside of the fence looks sparse if you don’t know where to look, which, since going outside the fence is technically illegal, most people don’t. Luckily for Mickey he’s never really been known to let rules hold him back. He’s one of the few people that knows where to look once you get past the fence. 

Mickey was able to figure out early on in his life that once you sneak past the fence if you walk far enough in the right direction you’ll come across, well- it definitely doesn’t deserve to be called a forest, more like a small grassy area with an even smaller amount of surrounding woods where some animals have been stupid enough to take up residence. It’s not a lot, but it’s decent to hunt in if you know what you’re doing and you’re desperate enough to try. 

Mickey doesn’t come there to hunt anymore though. He hasn’t needed to for the past year, not with the consistent food that’s been provided to him and his family. Now he uses it just as a way to escape, can’t remember a time in the past year where he’s felt more alive than he does when he’s outside of that fence, safely tucked away in the little piece of not- quite forest. He tries to convince himself that it’s just a distraction from the events of the last year and his generally shitty life. But a small part of him, a part that he is determined not to listen to, knows that he doesn’t feel like himself until he’s outside of that fence, that he wouldn’t know what to do without those stolen moments. He tries his best to ignore that little voice and tells himself that it’s just a distraction, if anything he has earned the right to distract himself, especially today.

Mickey shakes himself from his thoughts and satisfied that the fence hasn’t suddenly chosen today to start working, he crawls under the gap in the bottom that’s been there for as long as he can remember. Once he’s through he quickly looks around to make sure that nobody saw him come through and he pauses, just like he has every time that he’s been in this exact spot over the last year. He spares a glance to his left at the small, rundown homes that are placed too close together and look generally hazardous to live in. District eight is already one of the poorest districts, right up there with eleven and twelve, though typically overlooked, but this area of town makes the rest of it look like the fucking capitol. 

Mickey finds it strange, just like he does every time he’s in this situation that after all this time a part of him still has the urge to turn left, to walk through all of the run down shitty little buildings until he reaches the one that he’s most familiar with. He supposes that it’s not actually that weird to feel this way, one year can’t change the habits that he built up over the other sixteen. So instead of following that instinct, he suppresses it and turns right, walking until he reaches victor’s village.

He still hasn’t gotten used to how quiet this part of town is, not sure that he ever will. Every district has a designated neighborhood of fancy houses that are meant for the victors of the hunger games. Every time Mickey turns on to the street he can’t help but think about how unnecessary it is. In the sixty eight years since the Hunger Games started there have been three victors from district eight, only two are still alive. After growing up in the overcrowded, extra run down, section of town it feels weird to have only one drunk old lady as a neighbor, though as neighbors go he’s dealt with a lot worse.

The quiet ends as soon as he steps inside the house and he’s met with the familiar chaos that seems to follow the Milkoviches every where they go. His dad is nowhere to be seen, probably managed to actually make it to his bed before passing out this time. His brothers are standing around the kitchen, all seemingly various levels of drunk, though he can’t tell if they started early or just never sobered up from the night before, he’s not sure that he blames them either way and he doesn’t care enough to ask so after throwing a vague nod in their general direction he continues further into the house. He goes to his room and changes quickly, he doesn’t personally give a shit how he looks but the mayor’s assistant literally tracked him down yesterday just to remind him to look “somewhat presentable” and he really didn’t feel like arguing. Once he’s done he leaves his room and turns toward the one next to his, he pauses for a second before knocking hesitantly on the door.

“Since when does anybody in this house bother to fucking knock?” He hears from the other side of the door and figures that’s all the permission that he needs.

“I was trying to be respectful and shit” he says as he steps into the room and closes the door behind him. They both know that she’s right though. Knocking isn’t something that he’s ever bothered with before but something about this day is making him feel like he needs to be careful, like he has to tip toe around his own sister. He figures it’s probably from the weird sense of guilt that he feels with this being the first year that his name won’t be in those bowls along with hers. 

Mandy snorts, “first time for everything, I guess.”

“Fuck you,” he shoots back but there’s no heat to it.

“Where the fuck were you anyway?” Mandy asks, changing the subject.

“Out,” it’s all he says but he knows that she knows exactly what it means.

“I don’t get why you keep sneaking out. It’s not like you need to hunt anymore and you’re gonna be fucked if you get caught.”

“Well good thing I don’t fucking plan on getting caught,” he replies, knowing that he’s avoiding responding to her main point. He’s pretty sure that she knows it too but she doesn’t push it, just rolls her eyes and goes back to looking in the mirror, messing with her hair.

“You gotta get there early?” She asks, not taking her eyes off the mirror.

“Yeah, about to head out.”

“Cool, I’ll go with you. I told Ian I’d meet up with him before,” she says, turning away from the mirror, seemingly done with her hair. They leave the room and begin to exit the house together, nodding at their brothers on the way out.

“So why do you have to get there so early?” She asks as Mickey shuts the front door behind him and they begin to walk into town.

“Fuck if I know. They just told me I had to get there early to meet with the mayor and the escort before everybody else starts to come.”

“Same escort as last year?”

“Nah, apparently she expressed interest in, I think the direct quote was, ‘never having to deal with me again’ and I guess getting a winner makes the capitol actually give a shit so they moved her to a less terrible district.”

Mandy snorts in response but a moment later she’s turned her head a little so that she’s actually looking at Mickey as they walk and her face is completely serious. He knows that they’re about to get into a territory of conversation that neither of them is comfortable with so he braces himself before she speaks again.

“You ok?” She asks and honestly, he’s not even sure how to answer that at this point. In some ways he supposes he’s a hell of a lot better than he was around this point last year. In other ways though he hasn’t really felt ok for the majority of the past year. Sure he’s had brief moments where he feels something that if he didn’t know any better he’d think was close to happiness, but he does know better and the majority of the year he’s spent trapped in old, horrifying thoughts and wondering if it was all even worth it. He feels bad for having those thoughts though and all it really takes is one look at Mandy, no longer starving and living in a tiny filthy shack of a house, and he knows that it was worth it. He doesn’t know how to voice any of that, though, so he doesn’t. Instead he he just asks, “Are you?”

“Ok as I can be, I guess,” she shrugs. “Feels about as shitty as it does every year,” she pauses as if she’s trying to decide whether or not she wants to say something, “a little less since at least I know you can’t get called.” He doesn’t show it since emotions aren’t a thing that they do but he feels weirdly kinda touched by Mandy’s unexpected honesty. 

“At least my name’s only in there five times,” she continues but now there’s a guilty look on her face. Mickey knows that part of it is that she feels guilty that Mickey would never let her put her name in extra times to get rations. He always did it for her, even if he wasn’t signing up for extra for himself. Looking at her now though, it doesn’t seem like that’s the only thing bothering her. She looks actively worried and it seems like her mind drifted off for a second, as if she’s thinking about someone specific. His gut twists uncomfortably when he realizes who it is she’s probably worrying about. He tries to sound as casual as possible when he asks the next question.

“How many times is Gallagher’s name in?” Her head snaps up at that, as if she’s surprised that he accurately guessed exactly what she was worried about.

“Thirty six I think.” Mickey has to force himself not to stop dead in his tracks when he hears that.

“Fucking how?” He asks, much louder and probably with more emotion than he meant to but Jesus Christ that’s high for a sixteen year old. Now that he no longer has to deal with it Mickey can’t even specifically remember how many years he signed up extra to get rations for both of them and how many he did it just for Mandy, deciding that he could make do with what he could hunt and steal, but he’s almost positive that his name was never in there more than ten times.

“Well I mean, he hunts obviously but they’ve got to trade some of that for other stuff that they need so what they have left wouldn’t be enough to feed the whole family consistently. Fiona signed up for all the kids every year since she turned twelve but her last year was the year before he turned twelve and as soon as he did he made Lip promise that he wouldn’t carry all of the extra sign ups alone the way Fiona did so they agreed that they’d split the kids three and three and that they’d never make the younger three take on extra, at least until they both age out. But he knew that Frank and Monica would steal from the kids’ food whenever they actually show up and bother to acknowledge that they have kids, the way that they did when Fiona was signing up and since you can sign up for each family member he was allowed to do it for them too, but he didn’t tell Lip or Fiona.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah and then last year he started worrying about how many times Lip’s name was in, even though his was already in there more, so the past two years he’s rushed in early and signed up for all eight before Lip can and it’s all cumulative, so yeah, thirty six.”

“Fucking Gallagher” he mumbles under his breath but he knows that she hears. Now she’s giving him a weird, kinda confused look and fuck. Shit. What was his face doing when he said that? They move past it pretty quickly and soon they’re parting ways, Mandy turning left towards they’re old neighborhood and Mickey continuing on toward the center of town.

He gets there and pauses for a minute to take in the stage that’s been built for today. It looks the same as it has every other year but something feels different this time, like he can’t decide if it’s less daunting than it was in the past or even more so. He shakes off the uneasy feeling as best as he can and continues closer to the stage where the mayor is standing with a woman that he thinks looks vaguely familiar but he can’t quite place her. She’s pretty, he guesses in a very severe way if you’re into people that look like they never learned how to smile.

He makes his way over to them and as he’s walking he catches the woman’s eye before the mayor’s. He can tell that she recognizes him instantly. Not all that surprising really, his face has been broadcasted to all of Panem on and off for the past year. He’s used to the recognition. What he’s not used to is the other look in her eye. He knows that it, like the rest of her, seems vaguely familiar but he can’t quite place that either, can’t tell exactly what that look conveys. She doesn’t look away though and it makes him instantly uncomfortable, though he refuses it show it. At this point the mayor notices his presence and whatever weird unblinking tension there was between him and the woman instantly dissipates.

“Mickey, right on time!” The mayor says, genuinely surprised, ushering Mickey into the conversation. “This is our escort for this year,” he says, gesturing at the woman and pausing for a moment like he expects them to shake hands. Neither of them make a move to, so the mayor clears his throat, a little awkwardly and continues, “Svetlana, this is last year’s victor and our mentor for this year, Mickey.”

Svetlana. The name rings a bell and it only takes one more glance at her face for Mickey to know instantly, why he recognizes her. She’s about five or six years older than she was last time Mickey saw her for any extended amount of time on the large screen in the town square, during a nation wide announcement. He figures it’s been ten years since she was prominently featured. He knows why he didn’t recognize her immediately. Twelve to twenty two is a big age jump, still, there’s not a person in Panem that doesn’t know who Svetlana Yevgenivna is.

It’s hard to forget a twelve year old girl making it out of the initial bloodbath alive, let alone winning the entire games. Mickey was only seven when it happened but he still remembers watching as the small girl was taken from the arena, still covered in blood, and crowned the victor. She is the youngest victor in Hunger Games history by far, chatter about Svetlana kept on for years after she had won. She was twelve years old, small for her age even, and from a poor district and she had won, it was unheard of. 

And about four or five years after her victory when the districts were getting restless, when there were vague rumors of whispers of another uprising, the capitol thought that they could restore peace. They said that they were ‘instilling hope’ by offering someone from the districts a chance to live in the capitol. They chose Svetlana, because of course they fucking did, she’d already defied all of the other odds why not this too. There was a broadcast of her on the day that she moved, everyone in all of the districts was made to watch it. After that the rumors of vague whispers apparently quieted down. Personally Mickey thinks that the lack of a second rebellion had less to do with Svetlana’s move and more to do with the way that the first one turned out and there never Being any real plans to try that again in the first place. 

Still, nothing like that had ever been done before and it hasn’t happened since. Some people praised that she got the chance to live in the capitol, some were jealous, some were mad that she went at all, saying it showed her acceptance of the way the districts were treated by the government. As someone who has spent the last year of his life dealing with their government, Mickey would bet just about anything that she wasn’t given much of a choice. Still, he was never quite able to figure out exactly how he felt about what she did, not that he spent a lot of time thinking about it in general. 

Either way, it was weird to see her here today. News on her had died down a lot after her move, she was occasionally panned to in the audience at pre-game events but that was about it. He had no idea when the hell she had become an escort for the games, though again, he highly doubted that it was her choice. As they look at each other and give a vague nod in greeting, he takes in her face one more time. Takes note of her completely stone faced expression that hasn’t changed once yet and he guesses that at least she’s not over here smiling and giggling like this is the best fucking day ever like most escorts usually are, like his was last year.

The mayor keeps talking about the events for the day and how everything is going to work but Mickey zones out through most of it, his memories of last year are vivid enough he doesn’t need a play by play before he has to watch it happen all again, with a fucking front row seat this time. As the mayor talks Mickey notices people beginning to come into the square from all directions, lining up to check in and get their finger pricked before they file in with their age group in front of the stage. Once most of the kids have been checked in the mayor ushers Mickey and Svetlana onto the stage and into two of the four chairs that are set up at the back of the stage, the mayor taking his own seat at the far side of Svetlana, leaving Mickey with an empty chair next to him.

From up here Mickey can see everyone being ushered into the section meant for their age group. He sees some people that he doesn’t know but can’t help focusing on the ones that he recognizes. The girl who he cheated off of during tests in school last year, a boy that he’d punched after he tried to kiss Mandy when they were thirteen, a little red haired girl that he’d seen in his old neighborhood, going in and out of the overflowing Gallagher house. It’s then that he’s hit with a suddenly awful feeling. 

Obviously, he knew what was going to happen today and he’s been dreading it all year. But he’s realizing now that that had been a vague dread. The kind he used to feel when he was worrying about how they were going to survive through the winter when it was still currently summertime. Something that would definitely not be easy and would undoubtedly suck, but that he didn’t spend too much time thinking about since there wasn’t anything he could currently do about it, writing it off as a problem for future Mickey to deal with.

But watching these kids file in, most of which he recognizes, he is hit with the gut churning realization that he’s going to have to spend time with two of them, get to know them, even, and then most likely watch them die. And not only this year, either. His mentor had been the only victor in their district for forty years before he came along. She had to meet and try to help forty different pairs of kids and then watch them die, year after year. No fucking wonder he’d never seen her sober. He wonders in the back of his mind if maybe he should have asked her about this part of it. Mickey could admit that after what he went through he actually likes the drunk old lady, more than he likes most people at least. It’s not like they’re best friends that have fucking tea together and shit but he makes an effort to go over to her house every couple of weeks so that they can get drunk together. But they never talk about the games. Usually they don’t really talk at all, preferring to sit in the quiet and drink while sharing space with the only other person that they have access to that even sort of understands what the other has gone through. There’s a weird comfort in it, but still, they never talk about it. 

Mickey thinks that maybe they should have now. Sort of wishes he’d brought it up. He looks at the empty chair next to him, knowing it’s meant for her and wonders if she’ll even bother showing up now that she doesn’t have to be this year’s mentor. Before this very moment he wished she didn’t, thought she deserved a break. Now all he wants is for her drunk ass to stumble up those stairs and plop gracelessly in to the chair next to his. Then he could finally bring it up, could finally ask the old bat how the fuck she has been dealing with this for the past forty years because Mickey hasn’t even met the kids yet, hasn’t even heard they’re names and still he’s not sure how he is going to be able to handle watching them get murdered. He wants to throw up. Seriously thinks he might. He starts looking around for any way that he could make an even somewhat graceful exit from the stage and find a place to vomit in peace.

“Don’t,” he hears mumbled quietly from next to him. He turns and looks at Svetlana, she’s not looking at him, still staring straight ahead with her stony, unchanging facial expression. Mickey starts to think he imagined hearing the voice when finally she speaks again, still quiet, barely even moving her mouth.  
“Do not let them see you care. No emotion. Only way to get through.” 

She doesn’t elaborate but Mickey doesn’t need her to, he nods discreetly and faces forward. He tries to school his face completely as the rest of the kids file into their assigned sections. He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of it too. He’s a Milkovich, he’s got practice showing no emotion, after all. He catches a flash of red in the crowd and thinks he feels bile beginning to creep up his throat. It’s only for a moment though, before he feels an unstable presence on his other side and then there’s a flask right in his line of sight.

“Thought ya might need this,” his old mentor says as she situates herself in the chair next to his. He thinks that that might have been all the advice that she could’ve given him even if he did have a chance to ask how she did it all these years. He gives her as much of a smile as he can muster, taking the flask and takes a large gulp, handing it back to her right as the mayor stands up to begin speaking. He reads the story of the history of the Hunger Games, just like every year and just like every year Mickey tries to pay as little attention as possible, his eyes still darting around to the various faces in the crowd, though he’s careful not to make actual eye contact. 

When he’s done talking the mayor steps back to take a seat and Svetlana stands, walking to the front of the stage where the two huge bowls of names are waiting.

“Welcome everyone to the 69th Hunger Games,” she says, “Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor.” Mickey notices once again that she doesn’t have the enthusiasm that he’s used to seeing in all the past escorts. She says it monotone like she’s reading from a script, which he guess she is, but still, he can’t help but appreciate the slight hint of distaste that he hears in her voice. Not enough to get her in trouble with the capitol but still there if you’re listening for it.

She walks to the first bowl, the one with the girls names in it, he’s glad she doesn’t do any of that ‘ladies first’ bullshit as if it’s some sort of fucking honor. Mickey holds his breath. He’s careful not to show any emotion on his face, knowing that he’s in clear view of everyone watching, both live and the broadcast, but in his head he’s repeating ‘notmandynotmandynotmandy’ like a mantra. He’s looking at Svetlana’s back as she reaches in and grabs a paper, he doesn’t think it’s ever taken this long for someone to unfold a fucking piece of paper, even though he knows logically that she’s doing everything at a totally normal pace. 

He tries to calm himself down. 

It won’t be Mandy. Her name is only in there five times. It won’t be Mandy. They already have one family member fucked up for life because of this shit. It won’t be Mandy. Surely, nobody’s luck is that bad, not even a Milkovich’s. It can’t be Mandy.

She finally gets that piece of paper unfolded, clears her throat, he thinks he sees her posture tense but it’s only for a second he really can’t be sure, and-

“Amanda Milkovich.”

All of the air rushes out of his body.

He’s not sure he can even accurately describe what happens next. Everything is out of focus, as though he’s vaguely aware that it’s happening but can’t concentrate on any of it. 

Svetlana’s posture is tense, like it’s taking everything in her to not look back at him. The crowd is silent until there is a loud “NO!” From the audience, he doesn’t need to look to know that it came from the section of sixteen year old boys. He feels a light touch on his arm and finally snaps out of the daze looking down to see his favorite drunk old lady’s hand resting lightly on his arm. Only the mayor is still seated in the chairs they were all in. When the fuck did Mickey even stand up? He knows that his face lost its controlled mask of no emotion but it’s the last thing on his mind. He has to force himself to look out into the crowd for her.

Mandy has walked past the rest of the girls in her age group and is now being led down the aisle up to the stage. She’s not crying, in fact Mickey could probably stand to take a lesson from her on not showing emotion because he honestly can’t tell what she’s feeling. She looks over to the boy’s side and Mickey follows her gaze. There in the section of sixteen year old boys is a tall redhead struggling to get closer to the aisle, to Mandy, while other boys around him hold him back. Mandy looks at him and gives him a small sad smile, and a tiny shake of her head before facing forward again and continuing the rest of the way up to the stage. 

Once she’s up there all Mickey wants is to go to her. He’s not sure what he would say or do but he can’t shake the urge to go to her. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Svetlana move just a little bit. He looks up and sees her give a small tilt of her head towards Mandy he wonders what she’s doing because this is definitely not allowed. Though he’s not actually sure that this has happened enough for there to really be a protocol but he doesn’t let himself give it a second thought and he’s across the stage in an instant. He doesn’t care how he looks to anyone else in that moment, as he hugs her. He thinks he might hear Mandy sniffle once her face is buried in his neck but he can’t actually know for sure when he hears what she says in the next instant.

“Keep it short fuckface, you’re gonna make me look like a soft bitch,” she murmurs into his neck and he can’t quite help the snort that escapes him. He pulls back and they face each other. Mandy’s mask is back perfectly in place, no emotion. He schools his expression too and nods to her before going back to his seat on the stage. All that he can think about is that he can’t let her die. He knows in that instant he will do whatever it takes to make sure that Mandy gets out of that arena alive.

He’s still stuck in that thought when Svetlana moves on to the bowl of boy’s names. He’s not holding his breath the way he was minutes ago, too stuck in planning ways to get sponsors for Mandy, thinking about advice he’ll need to give her. Wonders if her knife throwing has gotten better since the last time he saw it. Suddenly, he’s glad he doesn’t really have any close friends because the boy is going to have to undoubtedly die to get Mandy through. He’s still watching Svetlana’s back as she reaches in and unfolds the paper.

He doesn’t have the mantra going in his head this time, won’t even let himself think the name. Tries to tell himself he’s not nervous. It’ll be fine. Nobody’s luck is that bad.

“Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey’s pretty sure his heart stops.

Fuck.

No.

No no no no no.

The weird unfocused out of body feeling comes back to him instantly. At least he manages to stay in his seat this time, he thinks absently. Unlike when Mandy’s name was called, when he had to force himself to look for her in the audience he finds that his gaze automatically darts to the section of sixteen year old boys. There he is, already taller than most of the others, red hair even brighter in the sun, as if that was even fucking possible. Mickey expects to see him frozen to his spot the way that he himself was last year when it’d been him. Instead, Gallagher is leaning forward into the section ahead of his, the one that holds the seventeen year olds, he’s murmuring to someone and shaking his head profusely. The other boy deflates instantly. Mickey doesn’t have to be able to hear them to know what just happened. Lip was about to volunteer, Ian wouldn’t let him. Mickey can’t help but think that Lip Gallagher’s pussy ass wouldn’t have lasted a minute in the games. He then sardonically thinks that at least he would’ve been out of the way for Mandy to win.

It’s then that Mickey is finally hit with what this really means. They’re both going into the arena. Logically, he knew that, and he’d already had his freak out about having to watch two people his age or younger die. But never in his worst nightmares of all the outcomes had he come up with this particular combination of people, almost as if it was too much for his brain to even compute. He feels as though he’s been stuck in these thoughts for ages though it’s really only been a few seconds. He watches as Ian shakes his brother’s hand off of his arm and walks to the center aisle to be led to the stage.

As Ian steps onto the stage there’s a sharp intake of breath from Mandy and her perfectly composed exterior cracks as she practically throws herself into Ian’s arms. He grabs her and holds on tight, which is completely expected. What he didn’t expect though is the collective gasp that seems to come from everyone in the district. It takes him a second to realize it but the reaction does make sense. The whole fucking town thinks that Ian and Mandy have been in love since they were like twelve. Mickey now knows that that was never the case, they’re best friends, have been since they first met at age six, and just never cared enough to correct anyone and he guesses it doesn’t matter now since all of Panem is gonna think they’re sending fucking Romeo and Juliet into the games. If he was thinking clearly and logically he’d already be thinking about how to use that to his advantage but he’s decidedly not thinking clearly or logically, he can’t right now. 

All he can think about is the teary eyed smile on five year old Mandy’s face the first time that Mickey found a hiding spot for them in a crawl space where they could wait out their dad’s drunken antics until he passed out. He’s thinking about the happy look on a freckle covered face and the way that the freckles multiply when the sun’s out. He’s thinking of the way his sister hugged him exactly a year ago and whispered that he better fucking come back alive. And of the smile that greeted him the first time he snuck outside the fence after getting back from the games, the relief in those green eyes as though nothing would ever be better than the sight of Mickey alive.

All he can think about is how if he had been magically given the opportunity to pick two people to not go into that fucking arena he wouldn’t have even needed to give it a second thought before knowing his answer. 

He watches them standing in the center of the stage hugging each other like their lives depend on it and all he can think is that if he had to describe his literal worst nightmare, not to anyone else, no one else can know, this would be it.

They’re both going into the arena. And only one of them can possibly come out.

All he can think is how can anyone’s fucking luck be this bad?


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the part in present day is pretty filler-y so I’m sorry about that but I promise we’re gonna get into more of the actual story soon! Hope you like it!

—————————

TWO YEARS EARLIER

Mickey sets his last trap and backs away slowly, not wanting to make any unnecessary noise. He goes back to his favorite tree and sits down to wait and see if any animals are stupid enough to walk into any of his several traps, he’s not worried, they usually are. He could try to actively hunt, he does sometimes, he’s good with knife throwing and up close killing but that’s not always the most effective way to hunt and he doesn’t really feel like it today, so instead he just waits. 

He leans back against the tree and tilts his face toward the sun to feel like warmth, closing his eyes. He originally took up hunting because it was necessary. His family never had enough to eat and it wouldn’t hurt to be able to sell or trade what he’s hunted to others in town. When he first started he did it grudgingly, his family was practically starving and neither his waste of space dad or any of his idiot brothers had made a move to do anything about it. Seven year old Mickey had decided that enough was enough and he had snuck outside of the fence with a knife that Iggy had given to him after stealing it from who the fuck knows where. 

Needless to say, it didn’t exactly go great the first few times, but eventually Mickey got the hang of it. He figured out how to set up traps to catch small animals and he practiced his knife throwing until he was good enough to hit a moving target. Mickey isn’t sure exactly when it happened but at some point along the way his hunting trips went from a necessary evil to something that he looked forward to, would do even more often if he thought he could get away with it. He started to appreciate there being actual grass and trees around, and the air not having a faint but consistent foul smell due to the emissions of the textile factory. More than anything he likes the quiet. Sneaking past the fence isn’t something that most people would think to risk, so he’s never seen anyone else out here. He likes feeling like he has a space that’s just his own outside of his loud, smelly, industrial shithole of a district.

Just as he’s beginning to relax even more he hears a twig snap and he’s on his feet in an instant. He’s come out here enough to know what animals moving around sound like and he knows instantly that that’s not what this is. That was a human footstep, he’s sure. He wonders briefly if a peacekeeper has finally found him but he doesn’t think any of the peacekeepers would actually bother coming beyond the fence. After that he moves without thinking. He lunges toward the sound and before he knows it he has the source of the noise pinned to the nearest tree with his arm against their chest, before he’s even looked to see who the person is.

He’s not sure who he was expecting to see, but it sure as hell wasn’t Ian Gallagher. Mickey wasn’t aware that Ian knew how to detach himself from Mandy’s hip long enough to go anywhere alone. But here he is, pinned against a tree with a look of shock on his face. 

“Gallagher? The fuck are doing out here? You fucking following me or some shit?” Mickey asks, confused because he definitely didn’t think that Gallagher had the balls to sneak outside the border, not that he spends much time thinking about the kid.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ian huffs back, “I’ve been coming out here since I was like eight. I was trying to hunt before you decided to fucking attack me.” That’s when Mickey glances down and sees the bow in Ian’s hand. It’s probably why he hasn’t tried to fight back, doesn’t want to risk damaging it, which Mickey can understand cause from what he can tell it seems well made. So maybe the kid does hunt, still if that was true how has Mickey never seen him out here?

“How the fuck have I never seen you if you’ve been coming out here that long, huh?” 

“Usually go in the other direction. Thought I’d try something different today. Glad I did too, the woods over there are way smaller,” Ian says.

“Smaller than this shit? How the fuck do you catch anything?” Mickey asks, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

“Guess I’m just that good,” Ian replies, chin jutting out and quirking an eyebrow of his own with an infuriating little smirk on his face. Obviously, Mickey knows that he’s had Ian pinned this whole time but this is the first time that he really takes in just how close they are. It feels like they’re sharing breath, he’s pretty sure he could count every freckle on Gallagher’s smug face if he wanted to, which obviously, he doesn’t. He doesn’t like the way it makes him feel. He also doesn’t like that Gallagher doesn’t even seem a little bit intimidated, just standing there smirking, not even trying to break out of Mickey’s hold. He presses harder with his arm, putting more pressure on Ian’s chest for just a minute before he pushes off, releasing him and stepping away.

Ian takes a deep breath and sets his bow and arrows down, leaning them against the tree, like he’s not even worried about what he came here to do. He’s looking at Mickey like he’s about to start small talk or some shit with him. It doesn’t sit well with Mickey. 

“Whatever, man,” Mickey says before Ian can say anything, “you can fuck off to your old spot now, seems like it’s been working out well enough for ya so far.”

“Nah, I like this one better,” he says back with a casual shrug, like he’s not uprooting all of Mickey’s peace and quiet.

“Well too fucking bad, this one’s mine,” Mickey spits back because he can’t have Gallagher here, he just can’t. The kid already spends more time than he would like in Mickey’s house hanging out with Mandy. And in his tiny, overcrowded shithole of a house with his dad and brothers always around, ignoring the kid’s presence isn’t too hard, it’s fucking necessary. Because not ignoring him would be dangerous. Not ignoring him would lead to thinking about things that Mickey tries not to let himself think about, things that he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, things that he will certainly never be allowed to have, not with Terry as a father. When Terry is around, the reminder of what he would do if he ever found out is enough to make Gallagher ignorable, but now there’s no one else here. He’s alone in a pathetic excuse for a forest with just Gallagher and his stupid red hair and his annoying freckles and Mickey doesn’t like how he feels about that. He needs him to leave.

“You don’t own the woods, Mickey. Besides, this area is plenty big enough for us to both be able to hunt,” Ian says it with his smug little smirk still in place, almost like a silent ‘what the fuck are you gonna do about it?’

Mickey doesn’t know what to say to that, all he knows is that this is his safe place and Ian Gallagher is decidedly unsafe. He needs him gone. He doesn’t even remember making the decision to move but the next thing he knows he’s lunging at Ian, fist raised and landing a punch on the side of his face.

“What the fuck?!” Ian shouts as he staggers back. Mickey is already moving, raising his fist again ready to strike but this time Ian’s expecting it, he dodges it with a quickness that Mickey didn’t know he had and the next thing Mickey knows he’s been tackled to the ground with Gallagher on top of him. They’re both fighting now, trying to get the upper hand and Mickey gets enough leverage to flip them, so that Gallagher is laying on the ground underneath him. He raises his fist, ready to deliver a punch when he finally takes in the position they ended up in. He is literally straddling Ian and fuck, he’s hard, he’s not even sure when that happened and he has no idea what to do about it but there’s absolutely no fucking way that Ian hasn’t noticed. He shifts a tiny bit and that’s when he feels it, Ian’s hard too. 

He drops the arm that was about to throw the punch and finally makes eye contact with Ian. He sees the fight drain out of Ian just like it left him a second before. Then he’s ripping his shirt over his head, leaning back enough for Ian to sit up and do the same. He climbs off of Gallagher long enough to undo his belt and push down his pants and boxers then leans over to help Gallagher get his down as well. He get on his knees and turns around, bracing his arms against the ground and making it clear what he wants. He hears the other boy let out a breath as if the air has been punched out of him then he’s back on Mickey in instant.

He preps him quickly but thoroughly, well as thorough as he can using spit, which is definitely not ideal but they’re in the middle of the fucking woods, it’s not like they have any other fucking options. When Ian finally pushes in he does it slowly, like he doesn’t want to hurt Mickey, and shit he’s big, so maybe there’s a reason for it but it’s not what Mickey wants. He reaches behind him to grab Ian’s thigh, trying to pull him forward while also pushing himself back. Ian gets the hint and pushes the rest of the way in. After that it’s fast and hard and everything that Mickey tries not let himself think about and it’s so fucking _good _.__

__It doesn’t last long for either of them and then Ian is rolling off of him and laying on his back on the ground. Mickey turns over and flops onto his back as well, wincing when his ass hits the ground. They both lay there for a moment catching their breath and not knowing what to say. All Mickey can think is ‘what the fuck just happened?’ But neither of them says anything. Mickey moves first, sitting up to grab his clothes and put them back on. Ian follows his lead but still neither of them say anything. When they’re both dressed and standing Mickey finally looks at him and Ian is just standing there staring at Mickey with his stupid green eyes like he wants to say something but thinks he might get punched again if he does. Mickey just stares back. There’s nothing to say, it shouldn’t have happened. Does he regret it? Fuck no, he wishes he did but he fucking can’t. But still, should it happen again? Also, fuck no. It shouldn’t have happened the first time, so there’s nothing to say._ _

__Ian looks unsure now, but he still doesn’t speak, he turns around and starts to take a step back toward the tree, like he’s ready to grab his bow and leave. He wonders if Gallagher will try to come back here next time he hunts or if he’ll fuck off back to his original spot. Based on his current hasty retreat, Mickey guesses that he probably won’t be back, not if he thinks Mickey doesn’t want him here. Mickey finds that he doesn’t like that idea even more than he didn’t like Gallagher being in his space in the first fucking place. But this can’t happen again. He should let him go. He tells himself that he’s not going to say anything. It’s better that way. Safer. He’s not going to say anything._ _

__“Hey, Gallagher,” well, shit. Ian turns around at Mickey saying his name and he’s looking at him now so he has to say something. “See ya next time.”_ _

__The smile that lights up Ian’s face at that is bright and a little ridiculous, then he’s walking back toward Mickey and he’s leaning in like he’s about to.._ _

__“Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out,” Mickey snaps, leaning back before walking around the other boy. He grabs his knife from the base of the tree and walks away, fighting the urge to look back._ _

__Well, fuck._ _

__———-_ _

__Mickey feels numb as he watches Ian and Mandy be led off the stage. They’re being taken to the justice building to say goodbye to their families. As he walks down the stairs on the side of the stage he has a vague thought that he’s not really sure what he’s supposed to be doing now. He never paid attention to what the mentor does after the initial reaping, never had any reason to. He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Svetlana staring at him again, he worries for a second that she might actually be reading his mind because all she says is “come,” before walking past him, clearly expecting him to follow._ _

__He does and as he goes he realizes that she’s taking him to the train, guesses that that’s where he’s supposed to wait for Ian and Mandy. As he walks up the small stairs and steps on to the train he looks around at the extravagant interior and he can’t help but remember how blown away he was by all of this last year, not used to seeing anything so fancy before. He knew it was taking him to what he was sure was going to be his eminent death but still he remembers cynically appreciating that at least he got to go there in style. He doesn’t feel any of the wonder or awe this time. He expected this part to be less terrible than it was last year, somehow it’s fucking worse._ _

__Svetlana has already sat down in one the plush, ornate arm chairs in the main room so Mickey throws himself onto the nearest couch. Neither of them say anything as they wait, even when they make accidental eye contact, they just look away and keep waiting._ _

__He expects Mandy to arrive first. He’s sure that his brothers went to see her but his family was never one to show emotions so he knew they’d keep it short, just like they did for him. He’s also sure that Gallagher will be in that room until the last possible second saying tearful goodbyes to his giant caring family. He’s surprised when the doors open at the end of the hour and they walk in together. It makes him vaguely wonder if Mandy has more people in her life than he thought she did because there’s no way that their dad or brothers were in there with her the whole time._ _

__Ian and Mandy look around wide eyed as they take in their new elaborate surroundings, before both moving together to sit on the couch opposite of the one Mickey is on. None of them say anything and it honestly makes Mickey uncomfortable. He’s not used to silence whenever these two idiots are around. They’re literally always babbling on to each other and in the past he’s found himself wondering how they’ve never run out of things to talk about in their ridiculous ten year friendship. He guesses if anything could shut them the fuck up it makes sense that it’s this. What the hell is anybody supposed to fucking say in this situation? Svetlana looks between the three of them for a moment before she stands._ _

__“Get cleaned up if you want. Or don’t. But meet here in hour for dinner and other districts recaps,” she says before walking out of the room and back towards the cabins. Mickey still can’t get a read on her and he stares after her for a moment as the room returns to silence once again._ _

__“Well this fucking sucks,” Mandy says after a moment, causing Ian to let out a snort along with a “yeah, no shit.” Ian reaches over and puts an arm around Mandy and she relaxes into him instantly._ _

__“You know,” Mandy says after a moment, “after I was done talking to my shithead brothers I went and waited outside of the room you were in,” she says to Ian._ _

__“What the fuck, why?”_ _

__“Wanted to finally see this mystery guy of yours,” she replies casually. Ian visibly tenses up and Mickey forces his body to not do the same. He thinks he does an okay job and he’s actively trying not to seem interested but what the fuck? What fucking mystery guy? Does Gallagher have a goddamn boyfriend?_ _

__“Mandy!” Ian practically shrieks, eyes instantly shooting to Mickey._ _

__“It’s just Mick. He’s not our fucking dad he’s not gonna beat the shit out of you and who the fuck’s he gonna tell, Ian?” Mandy says, clearly completely oblivious to how awkward this currently is._ _

__Ian scoffs, clearly trying to play it cool but Mickey can tell he’s getting uncomfortable. “Why the fuck was that even what you were thinking about?” He asks her._ _

__“Well if we’re dying anyway..” Mandy says and she shrugs as if to say ‘might as well’ but doesn’t finish the sentence. The three of them lapse into silence at the reminder of their likely deaths but it’s only for a moment before Mandy seems to shake herself out of it and then she’s speaking again._ _

__“Saw your family, and Kev and V but I did not see any mystery men show up,” Mandy says._ _

__“Uh... yeah. He, uh, he wasn’t there,” Ian says and he looks even more uncomfortable now._ _

__“What the fuck?” Mandy practically spits the words out in a way that she only does when she is at her most pissed off. Mickey honestly can’t blame her. He can admit to himself that he does not like the idea of Gallagher having some secret boyfriend. Even if what the two of them have is casual, it still feels wrong. The guy’s dick was literally in Mickey’s ass this fucking morning. If he has a boyfriend Mickey feels like he should at least know about it. He tells himself that that’s all this uncomfortable feeling in his gut is. He tries to block out the voice in the back of his head telling him that it’s hurt, betrayal, jealousy. He feels rage too. Rage at this unnamed douchebag who seems to be able to just brush Ian aside. He knows if he’s not careful his feelings will show on his face so he tries to push them down and focus on what Mandy is saying instead. “I know the fucker is closeted and you keep telling me that he wants to keep it casual but you’re literally getting shipped off to die and he can’t even say goodbye? You’ve been fucking for two years Ian. That’s not ok.”_ _

__Ian’s face is bright red now and he sort of looks like he wants to cry, more out of embarrassment than anything else if Mickey had to guess. It’s at that moment that it clicks for Mickey and he feels a little dumb that he didn’t connect it earlier. There is no other secret boyfriend. It’s him. He’s the douchebag that doesn’t treat Ian right. He feels the betrayal and jealousy that he was refusing to acknowledge subside and he expects the anger to go with them. It doesn’t though, it just changes. Changes from rage at some unknown asshole that’s apparently not real and shifts into the familiar anger that he feels towards himself every time he watches Ian’s face fall after seemingly not letting him in yet, again._ _

__“It’s not like that Mandy,” Ian stammers, trying to defend the guy- trying to defend Mickey. “It’s just complicated. You don’t understand.” He sounds desperate and the familiar feeling of guilt joins the self loathing inside of Mickey._ _

__“No, Ian I don’t,” Mandy says and she stands, he sees the moment that she realizes her anger is misdirected, she’s not mad at Ian, she’s mad at some nameless faceless guy. Mickey briefly wonders how she would react if she found out who her anger was truly directed toward. She deflates a little and leans over to squeeze Ian’s hand, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be back for dinner,” she says, clearly trying to show that she’s not mad at him but no longer wants to talk about this, as if it’s a conversation they’ve had a thousand times, Mickey guesses that it probably is and the guilt amps up even more. Ian gives Mandy a small nod before she walks through the doors to the cabins._ _

__Silence returns to the room again and it’s even heavier now, borderline awkward. Mickey doesn’t know what to do because he’s never the one to fill the silences between him and Ian, that’s always Ian’s job with his incessant nonstop babbling that Mickey pretends to hate but secretly finds comforting. Right now it looks like Ian wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say after what just happened._ _

__“Look, Mick-“ Ian eventually speaks up, and as per usual once he starts talking he doesn’t seem able to stop, “I’m so sorry-“ he says before continuing and Mickey snaps his head up at that confused, why the fuck is Gallagher the one apologizing? He’s not the asshole here, but before Mickey can say anything Ian keeps going. “That wasn’t fair and I know I should’ve kept my mouth shut but I swear she doesn’t know anything and-“ he can tell that Ian’s about to spiral so he cuts him off before he can._ _

__“It’s fine Gallagher. Stop freaking out,” he snaps. “I know she doesn’t fucking know anything I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t  
have balls anymore if she did,” he tries to joke, happy to see that it seems to work at least a little when the corner of Ian’s mouth starts to turn up._ _

__“Still, she shouldn’t have said tha-“ Ian begins again._ _

__“She wasn’t wrong, Gallagher, the guy she just described sounds like a real dick,” Mickey says and he feels as surprised as Ian looks. Mickey knows that he’s been kind of an asshole to Ian throughout their whole situation but he’s done what he has to do. His dad can’t find out and that’s that. Still, he’s never directly referenced the way he treats Ian and he can tell that Ian doesn’t know how to respond to it. After a second Ian takes a big breath and he looks weirdly cautious, like saying what he’s about to say is a bad idea and he’s gonna do it anyway._ _

__“Well, she’s not right either. She doesn’t know him like I do,” he says quietly and before Mickey can say anything he stands and walks toward the door to the rest of the room. Mickey thinks it’s probably for the best because he sure as hell has no idea what to say to that and he’s too busy trying to ignore the feeling of his heart swelling at Ian’s words. So he doesn’t say anything. Just watches as Ian walks away and tries to tell himself to not get more attached than he secretly knows he already is._ _


	3. Chapter Three

————————-

ONE YEAR AND SEVEN MONTHS EARLIER

Mickey makes his way through the market after having finished most of the trading that he came here to do. He’s on his way to leave when a table with knit goods as well as random jewelry and trinkets catches his eye. He pauses when he sees the newly knitted socks on the table and if he focuses he can literally feel at least four different holes in the pair currently on his feet. It’s not the type of good that he’s used to trading for. If anything it’s the type of thing that he’d usually just steal but looking at the little old lady behind the stand he can’t bring himself to do it. He’s pretty sure that spending so much fucking time with Gallagher over the last five months is making him soft, he doesn’t like it. But he caught more than he expected last time he hunted, plus he’s on his way to go back out right after this so he figures he might as well. He keeps his voice low as he address the old woman at the stand.

“I’ll trade ya a squirrel for a pair of socks,” she glances around before responding, probably to make sure that there are no peacekeepers around. Typically they turn a blind eye to Mickey’s hunting but still there’s no need to be an idiot about it. She nods and as Mickey shifts to pull his bag off of his shoulder to retrieve the animal something on the table catches his eye and he pauses to look at it. It’s a small silver pin. It’s a circle with two arrows crossing to make an X in the middle. He picks it up to look closer at it. Part of him hates that he’s even taking the time to look at it. Five months ago he could’ve seen this stupid pin and not given it a second glance. Now he apparently can’t even see an arrow without fucking thinking about red hair and green eyes. It scares him a little but what scares him more is the smile that he now feels on his face as he looks at the thing. He needs to be more careful.

He puts the pin back quickly and reaches around for his bag to pull out the squirrel and pass it across to the woman. She takes it and gestures at the socks for him to choose a pair. He picks a pair quickly and puts them in his bag, still trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling churning inside of him and he’s turning to thank her but before he can speak she holds her hand out to him. She’s holding the pin.

“Here take this too,” she says kindly.

“Oh, no I don’t need-“ he starts but she cuts him off.

“Please. I’ve never seen anyone look at this piece of junk the way you just did. Not like it’s worth anything anyway. Just take it,” she insists. 

Mickey can feel his face heat up at having been caught smiling like an idiot at a stupid fucking trinket, but he takes it from her, stuttering out a thank you and slips it into his pocket before walking out of the market and heading towards the gap in the fence.

————

Neither of them say anything as they finish getting redressed and Mickey can’t help but think that this silence is a lot more comfortable than the one after the first time they did this five months ago. They’ve fallen into a routine since the first time. It’s stupid, Mickey knows it is but he can’t bring himself to stop. After the first time Mickey kept sneaking out to hunt his usual amount and after two weeks of not seeing Ian out there again he told himself it was a one time thing. Ian went back to his old area and it’s not going to happen again. He tried to convince himself that it was for the best anyway. Two weeks later though Mickey was setting up a trap when he caught a glimpse of red that could only really be one thing and he was walking toward Ian before he could stop himself.

After that Ian had shyly asked when Mickey usually came out to hunt and that was that. Mickey rarely hunted alone anymore and at the beginning he worried that his family might start to notice the longer periods of time he was spending outside the fence. Hunting took a lot longer when you were getting fucked before and after the actual hunting part, but nobody ever said anything so Mickey tried to stop worrying so much. He thought he’d hate having someone else out here with him for the actual hunting but he’s gotten used to Ian’s incessant chattering and general presence. They even tried to teach the other their preferred style of hunting, with mixed results. He tries his best to keep Ian at a distance, they’re not fucking boyfriends after all. He would never say it out loud, not even to Ian, especially not to Ian, but he likes spending time with the boy even when they’re not fucking, thinks he might find his constant company comforting, not that he’d ever admit it.

He watches as Ian finishes lacing up his boot and then sits back against the nearest tree and picks up Mickey’s knife and starts fiddling with it, almost as if he doesn’t realize that he’s doing it. Mickey watches Ian’s long fingers as they twirl around the knife and has to look away before he starts thinking too much about what those fingers were doing about fifteen minutes earlier and their recently replaced clothing ends up all over the ground again.

“You’re getting better,” Mickey says to distract himself. Ian looks up and raises an eyebrow at him that is somehow both questioning and suggestive at the same time and it takes a minute for Mickey to realize what Ian probably thinks he’s talking about.

“Not that you perv,” Mickey scoffs, punching Ian playfully on the arm. “I meant with knives,” he says, nodding down at the knife in Ian’s hand as if his words weren’t clarification enough.

“Oh,” Ian laughs, “thanks. Still not nearly as good as you.”

“Well yeah, no shit. Nobody’s as good as me,” Mickey replies, earning an eye roll from Ian.

“Your modesty is overwhelming,” Ian deadpans back, “anyway think I’ll probably stick with the bow and arrows.” At the mention of Ian’s arrows Mickey is reminded of the pin in his pocket and before his brain can tell him that this isn’t a good fucking idea he’s reaching into his pocket and pulling it out. 

“Speaking of arrows, some old lady at the market gave me this. You can have it,” he says as he passes it over to Ian, hoping his face isn’t getting red, trying to remind his body that there’s no reason for it to because it’s not like it fucking means anything.

Ian takes the pin and examines it for a second before he turns to look at Mickey and his face is lit up with a huge fucking grin that rivals the goddamn sun. Mickey feels himself melt a little at that smile before he gets control over himself and rolls his eyes.

“It’s just a fucking pin. It has arrows on it you use arrows. It’s not big deal, Gallagher. Don’t make it weird,” Mickey says before Ian can speak, knowing that Gallagher is without a doubt about to make it weird. Ian’s smile doesn’t falter at Mickey’s words, if anything it gets even bigger and Mickey isn’t even sure how that’s fucking possible.

“Aw, Mick. You got me a present,” Ian practically coos at him and Mickey can now feel his face heating up and he just rolls his eyes again and looks away.

“Fuck You is what I got you,” he tries to snap but it comes out with way less heat than he would have liked. He finally risks glancing back at Gallagher but he isn’t looking at Mickey anymore. He’s now staring at the stupid pin in his hand with a look that’s almost reverent. He looks like somebody just handed him a fucking bag of gold and told him that the Hunger Games were going to be cancelled completely as an event. Mickey’s insides warm a little at the fact that he put that look on Ian’s face but he pushes the feeling away. Ian stares at the pin for a second longer and then starts glancing down at his own body. He picks up a corner of his shirt then sort of shakes his head before looking at the pocket on his pants. It takes Mickey a moment to realize that he’s trying to decide where to put the pin. 

“You don’t actually have to wear it, Gallagher, you don’t have to do shit with it-“ Mickey starts to say before he is immediately shushed by Ian who is still looking at his own body like he needs to find the perfect spot for this fucking thing. After a minute his face lights up like he has the best idea ever and he draws his left leg closer to his body and bends over his already bent knee to attach the pin around the base of his shoe lace at the front of his boot. He fiddles with it for a moment before apparently deciding that it’s now in its proper place, before he turns to look back up at Mickey.

“Thanks, Mick. I love it.” He says it so sincerely and now he’s looking at Mickey with that same reverent look like he’s never seen something this great and Mickey doesn’t know what to do about it. It’s making him feel things that he can’t feel. So instead of engaging in the conversation he does what he always now does whenever it feels like Ian is getting too close.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You wanna chit chat or you wanna get on me, Firecrotch?” Ian lets out a laugh before reaching for his belt. Mickey does the same as he rolls over. He tries to focus on the physical sensation that Ian is causing in his body and not the stupid fluttery feeling that he thinks Ian might be causing in his heart.

——————————————————-

Mickey wakes with a start and tries to calm his breathing as he takes in his surroundings. He’s in his room on the train. He continues trying to control his breathing as he realizes he’s covered in sweat. Another fucking nightmare. He’s gotten used to them over the past year and was relieved when they went from happening every night to just every once in a while. He’s been getting them more frequently recently as this year’s games got closer and he knew he’d have to go back to the capitol as a mentor. Now that he’s living his literal worst nightmare he imagines that they probably won’t ever stop after this.

He pushes himself out of bed and goes to take a quick shower before heading into the main compartment on the train. When he arrives he sees that Ian, Mandy, and Svetlana are already there eating breakfast. He joins them at the table giving everyone a nod before reaching for whatever decadent food the capitol has supplied them with. Svetlana lets him know that they’ll be arriving at the capitol soon and then they all lapse into silence. Nobody says anything for a while until Ian eventually breaks the silence.

“So, should we like finally talk about strategy or something?” He asks, clearly uncomfortable. Mickey looks up and sees matching miserable expressions on Ian and Mandy’s faces. He feels his heart sink and all he wants to do is comfort them, even though that’s not really the type of relationship that he has with either of them he still wants to be able to reassure them that everything will be okay. But he can’t, they all know that nothing will ever be okay again. He tries to think of any possible comfort he could give them.

“Listen, if you play your cards right you shouldn’t have to actually kill that many people.” Jesus, he’s shit at this, a sentiment that is practically echoed to him by the snort that Svetlana lets out. He doesn’t think that his words have brought any reassurance to Ian or Mandy, if both of them looking slightly nauseous and pushing their plates away in perfect sync is anything to go by. He decides to try a different approach.

“Look, best advice I can give you is you need to be likable. You want to stay alive? You need sponsors. In order to get sponsors you need to get them to like you,” he says.

“They didn’t like you,” Ian replies bluntly, causing both Mandy and Svetlana to snort.

“Well, I’m a special fucking case, Gallagher. You’re right, they didn’t like me, pretty sure they still fucking don’t. You know how they hold those special events that they sometimes invite past victors too? Yeah, I don’t get invited to those and I don’t lose any fucking sleep over that. They gave me the crown, took me on that awful tour and then they were done with me. Nobody was real thrilled that I won and I did it without any fucking handouts from sponsors. But you know how often that actually happens? Almost fucking never. You pussies need all the help you can get so get them to fucking like you.”

“He’s right,” Svetlana says after a moment. “You want them on your side, try hard to make like you. It won’t help that he’s your mentor and her brother. Must be very charming,” she says and Mandy and Ian both nod as though the advice actually makes sense now that it’s not coming from Mickey.

“You already have edge though,” Svetlana continues, “tears and hug at reaping were good touch. Whole district thinks you’re in love. Now all of Panem thinks so too we play that up.”

“Oh, we’re not actua-“ Ian starts to say but he’s cut off by Svetlana.

“Doesn’t matter if you actually are. Matters that the capitol thinks you are. At very least, they pity you. We can work with pity,” she says bluntly. At this they both turn back to Mickey as if now they want his advice. He rolls his eyes before replying.

“It’s not a bad idea and it won’t be fucking hard. District 8 has thought you guys are in love for years, the reaction at the reaping only solidified that. Those capitol dipshits love a good backstory. You two gave them one without fucking trying. I say you run with it,” Mickey tells them. He expects telling the guy he’s fucking to pretend to date his sister to be much weirder than it actually is. He’s not sure if it’s because it’s a literal life or death situation or because he’s just gotten used to everyone around him thinking that they’re dating over the years. He decides not to overthink it.

Before long, they’re pulling into the train station at the capitol and being ushered to the remake center. The feeling of dread in Mickey’s stomach gets even stronger as he takes in the familiar surroundings that he never wanted to have to see again. Svetlana leads Mandy and Ian through a door to get cleaned up in the most thoroughly uncomfortable way possible if Mickey’s experience last year was anything to go by. He finds a waiting area with extravagant, plush chairs and takes a seat in one, trying to focus on not getting sick as he waits.

He’s been waiting for hours, he’s not even sure how many at this point but he’s not sure that he’s ever felt this combination of discomfort, horror, and boredom before. He’s starting to wonder if there’s something he should be fucking doing but he has no idea what and it’s not like anyone around here is really gonna jump at the chance to help him. He’s already noticed multiple people blatantly avoid coming near him once recognition dawns. He’s shaken from his thoughts by the sound of someone calling his name. 

He turns to see a tall man with bleach blonde hair, wearing some full body one piece outfit made completely of black lace , walking straight towards him and he can’t help the smile that he feels break across his face. 

“Cole!” He says as he stands up to greet the man. He feels a weird sense of relief at seeing the only person that he actually liked from his horrible experience here last year. Mickey tried to hate Cole as much as he hated everyone else that he dealt with but he found that he couldn’t. Mickey’s Games was Cole’s first year as a stylist so of course he was assigned to the most pain in the ass tribute. They were cool around each other at first but once Cole decided that he could trust Mickey he opened up about how much he hated the games. He thought they were barbaric and horrifying and while he loves styling he thought that the idea of getting all of these people dressed up and parading them around before they were sent off to kill each other was inexcusable but he’d taken the job because he didn’t feel like he had a choice.

“Thought last year was your first and last year? Said you’d be able to get out after that?” Mickey says.

“I did. Dressing last year’s victor got me tons of publicity, so now business is booming,” Cole says, voice dripping with disdain and Mickey knows that Cole is uncomfortable with how he gained his success.

“So, what the fuck are you doing back here man?” Mickey asks.

“I saw your sister get chosen during the reaping,” Cole says somberly, “you’re not exactly about to win any popularity contests so I figured you could use someone in your corner.” Mickey feels instantly grateful that Cole was willing to put himself through this again just to be there for Mickey.

“So you’re styling them?” He asks.

“Yup! Usually they wouldn’t make a change like that so last minute but coming from a victor’s team gives you a lot of clout so they agreed to let me dress them both,” Mickey feels himself relax the tiniest bit knowing that at least Mandy and Ian will have one more person who truly wants to help them.

“Thank you, man. Seriously, I don’t even know what to say,” Mickey says, the words are sincere in a way that he isn’t used to being but he wants Cole to know how much it means.

“Anyway, not like it’ll be hard to make those two look good,” Cole says, immediately shifting back to his usual upbeat self and Mickey laughs but Cole just continues.

“I mean seriously, this is probably inappropriate for me to says because he’s your sister’s boyfriend and all but dear god he is fine,” Cole practically moans as he says it and Mickey feels himself tense. He forces out a laugh because honestly who could blame Cole for that? He’s not fucking wrong.

“Like, Jesus, the things I would do to that boy,” Cole continues.

“Okay, calm down,” Mickey spits out before he can stop himself. His tone is harsher than he wanted it to be but he couldn’t control it at hearing the way Cole was talking about his Ian. No, not his Ian. He’s not his anything he has to remind himself for what feels like the hundredth time. If Cole notices Mickey’s shift in mood he doesn’t say anything, he just lets out a laugh.

“Okay, well I gotta go meet them now, see you before the ceremony!” Mickey waves him off before settling back down to continue his wait.

After a few more hours Mandy finally emerges from one of the rooms and walks toward Mickey. Even Mickey has to admit that Cole and his assistants did a good job. She looks gorgeous. She’s wearing a floor length gown made out of some weird iridescent fabric that Mickey can’t help but think looks itchy up close. The dress is a shade of blue that brings out her eyes perfectly and it has green accents scattered throughout. Her hair is curled and her makeup is done. Mickey is pretty sure there’s even some glitter on her cheeks. He can’t help but think that the dress should be ugly but somehow just isn’t. He walks up to her and is about to speak when the door opens again and he looks up to see Cole practically dragging Ian out of the room and over to them.

“You look amazing!” Cole says to Ian before turning his attention to Mickey and Mandy, “would you all please tell him that he looks amazing!” Mandy immediately starts gushing reassurances but Mickey doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure he can. Ian is in a suit made from a similar fabric to Mandy’s dress except it’s green instead of blue and it brings out his eyes in a way that Mickey didn’t think was possible. Much like Mandy’s dress has green accents Ian’s suit has blue accents. His hair is slicked back and they’ve lined his eyes with a thin line of black, making them pop even more. When he looks closely he sees that there’s glitter lightly dusting his cheeks as well. Once again, he finds himself thinking that the weird fabric green suit should be ugly and he can’t figure out how it’s possible but it’s just not. It looks amazing on Ian. Ian looks amazing and he looks even better standing next to Mandy, they compliment each other perfectly.

“Are you gonna say something, bitch?” Cole asks impatiently and Mickey realizes he’s been staring. Mickey tries to fight the blush that he feels rising on his face while at the same time trying to think of something to say that won’t immediately alert everyone in the vicinity to the fact that Mickey wants Ian’s dick in him. Like, right fucking now. 

“It, uh-“ he stutters before finally landing on, “the fabric looks itchy.” Mickey cringes at his words but he can’t find it in himself to regret them because they cause Ian to let out a bright, beautiful laugh.

“It fucking is! But Cole keeps yelling at me to stop fucking with it,” he says with a smile still on his face.

“And I fucking mean it, Ian!” Cole chides back. 

“And why the fuck is it so bright?” Ian asks and he seems self conscious, like he doesn’t know that he is literally blowing Mickey’s mind right now looking the way that he does. “You dressed Mickey in black last year!”

“Black is quite literally the only color that Mickey can pull off due to his attitude and general demeanor,” Cole says, bluntly, causing Mandy to laugh and Mickey to let out a ‘ay, fuck you’ before Cole continues. “That worked for him. It won’t work for you. You are absolutely vibrant and we need to show it. Besides, just be thankful that you all don’t have to wear the stupid fucking costumes that everyone else is gonna be in. Textiles leaves us with a lot of options. Trust me when I say this fabric is your best option. Just wait til you get out there under the lights,” he says confidently.

Svetlana chooses that moment to reappear, causing Mickey to vaguely wonder where she went in the first place. She pauses in front of Ian and Mandy to take in their appearances.

“Looks good,” she says, and Mickey thinks she might even look a little impressed. “We go to chariots now. Remember, you are together, you are team. Do not forget to smile. Make them love you.” They both nod before they all follow Svetlana. Mickey ends up a bit behind the rest of the group and notices that Ian has also straggled behind and he still looks nervous. 

“Deep breath, Firecrotch. You look great,” Mickey mumbles under his breath but he knows that Ian hears him because he’s smiling now and he looks a little bit more confident than he did a second before.

Once they get Mandy and Ian set up in their chariot Mickey and Cole go to find a place in the audience to watch the chariots come out. Once they’re settled and just waiting Cole turns to Mickey and Mickey can tell that he wants to ask something but isn’t sure if he should. Mickey fills with dread instantly, having a decent guess of what it is. He hopes that he won’t say anything but knows that Cole is Cole and there’s absolutely no fucking chance of that happening.

“So,” Cole finally says, “did you do what we talked about last year?” Mickey knew it was coming but he still can’t stop himself from tensing up. Cole is just sitting there looking at him patiently.

“No,” Mickey finally says quietly, before Cole can respond Mickey continues. “Look, I was literally positive that I was about to die. Nobody knows what you know and I just- I can’t-“ Mickey is stumbling over his words and he knows that his face is bright red but this is really not a conversation that he wanted to have.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Cole assures him with a small smile on his face, it’s sad though, as if he wanted better for Mickey, hoped he had found at least some type of happiness. All of a sudden loud music starts up over the speakers and Mickey is thankful for the distraction. They both turn their attention to the entrance and Mickey gets ready to size up Ian and Mandy’s competition as they come out. 

Mickey’s plan to focus on the competition doesn’t work for long though because as soon as District 8’s chariot is visible he can’t look anywhere else. He can’t help but think that Cole was definitely on to something. Under the lights the fabric of their clothes is practically luminous. It lights them up completely, highlighted even more by the light glitter on their faces. They’re smiling brightly and holding their clasped hands in the air between them. The audience around him is going wild at their appearance, more so than that of any other district and Mickey knows that he should be focusing on that, thinking about what to do next but he can’t focus on anything but Ian. 

Mickey can’t take his eyes off of Ian and he vaguely wonders if that’s because of how absolutely gorgeous Ian currently looks or if it’s because Mickey sort of always struggles with not looking at Ian too much. He likes to think that he typically has a pretty good handle on the constant urge to stare at Ian but right now he couldn’t fight it if he wanted to, and he really really doesn’t and with Ian being the center of attention Mickey realizes that he’s allowed to look, so he does. He keeps his eyes trained on Ian as the chariot circles around the arena. He watches as Ian lights up the room the same way that he’s been lighting up Mickey’s life for the past two years and he tries to push down the overwhelming thought of what his life could possibly be like without Ian Gallagher in it.

————

After the opening ceremony they go to the tower where they’ll be staying until the games start. They get off of the elevator on the eighth floor and Svetlana shows Ian and Mandy to their rooms. Mickey looks around, he thinks they redecorated a little but still it doesn’t look different enough to stop the memories from last year from coming back. They have a relatively quiet dinner, Mickey assumes that it’s because nobody knows what the fuck to say. After that Svetlana announces that training starts tomorrow and they’ll talk strategy over breakfast but everyone should get some sleep. Mickey already knows sleep won’t come easy so instead he just waits until everyone is in their rooms and he goes out to the balcony that wraps completely around their floor. He turns right and follows a path that he hasn’t walked in a year but it’s cemented in his brain like it was yesterday. He walks until he’s about halfway around the balcony and sees his familiar little corner. There’s chairs scattered around but he just sits on the floor and leans back against the wall, letting the events of the last two days wash over him.

He’s not sure how long he’s out there before he feels a presence near him, even though he didn’t hear anybody approaching. He turns his head and sees Ian who looks a little surprised to see Mickey out there.

“Oh shit, sorry. I can go-“ he starts to say

“Don’t be weird, Gallagher, just sit the fuck down.” Ian smiles a little before doing as he’s told and sitting down next to Mickey. 

“You used to come out here last year?” Ian asks, but it sounds like he already knows the answer. Not for the first time Mickey’s left feeling a little uncomfortable at just how well Ian knows him.

“Yeah, always felt more comfortable being outside then locked in that fancy room,” Mickey replies and Ian just hums in agreement.

“You know,” Ian starts to say after a moment, “I never really asked you details about your games, never seemed like you wanted to talk about it, kinda wish I had now.”

“Yeah, well I never thought you’d need to know. Sure as shit didn’t see this coming.”

“Me neither but what’s done is done I guess,” Ian says it with so much resignation in his voice that it makes Mickey’s heart hurt, as if Ian is accepting that he’s going to die. “Nothing we can do about it now,” Ian finishes. This time Mickey hums in agreement because what else can he say? Ian’s right, there is nothing that they can do about it, but god, Mickey wishes there was.


	4. Chapter Four

————————

ONE YEAR EARLIER

Ian pulls out and rolls off of Mickey before reaching for his clothes and getting redressed. Mickey does the same and then they’re settling down to sit next to each other. Ian’s already killed a bird and two squirrels with his bow, while Mickey got a squirrel with his knife, now they’re just waiting to see if anything wanders into Mickey’s traps.

“You ready for today?” Ian asks.

Mickey scoffs, “ready as anybody can be for that shit.” He looks over at Ian, sees him fiddling with the arrow pin that hasn’t been moved from his boot laces since the day Mickey gave it to him all those months ago. It’s become a habit of Ian’s over the last seven months to touch the pin whenever his foot that the boot is on is within arm’s reach, Mickey’s pretty sure that Ian doesn’t even know when he’s doing it. 

“How many times is your name in?” Ian asks, Mickey stops for a second to think about it.

“Uh, like eight or nine I think. Don’t usually get extra for me, really only do it for Mandy, but usually we can live off what I hunt and steal.” Ian nods and Mickey pauses before asking a question that he’s scared of the answer to. “How many is yours in?” Ian only pauses for a second before answering.

“More than that,” and Mickey wants to ask, he wants to know but he also really really doesn’t because hearing the actual number will make it too real. Ian is a fucking year younger than him, ideally his name would only be in there four times. But nothing has ever been fucking ideal for people like Mickey and Ian and Ian’s too caring for his own good. Mickey is almost positive that he’s signed up extra to get rations for all of his siblings. The number will make it too real so Mickey doesn’t ask. He tries to think of something else to say but before he can Ian is speaking again.

“I wish we could fucking end it,” Ian says with fire in his voice. It’s a speech Mickey’s heard before.

“We can’t.”

“What if we could? What if everybody just stopped watching?” Ian counters

“They won’t,” Mickey replies, trying to put finality in his voice. He doesn’t like to hope for things that he knows won’t ever come true. Of course, this tactic doesn’t work on Ian.

“Come on, I mean, you root for your favorites, you cry when they get killed. It’s fucking sick. If no one watches then they don’t have a game, simple as that,” Ian says it with so much confidence that Mickey almost wants to believe him.

“Come on man, we both know that’s not fucking true.”

“Eh, maybe not,” Ian says as he deflates a little. He’s silent for a moment, staring out into space but Mickey knows that he’s thinking hard about something. “We could run,” Ian says eventually.

“What?” Mickey replies, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, we could do it. Take off, live in the woods. The ones around here aren’t big enough to hide in but it can’t be too far until that’s all there is. Not like we don’t spend most of our time out here anyway.”

Mickey knows that this is ridiculous but he can’t help but feed in to it, just for a second. “Oh yeah? What about Mandy? What about your assload of siblings?”

“We’ll bring them with us.”

“They’d catch us.”

Ian just shrugs, “maybe not.”

“We wouldn’t make it five miles, man”

“No, we’d get five miles,” Ian replies, and he sounds so sure of himself.

“Come on, man, quit making shit up,” Mickey scoffs, he tries to sound casual but the truth is he really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. Ian’s being completely unrealistic.

“I’m not making it up! We could do it, find woods that stretch on for miles, hide out there, make a life. They’d never find us.” Mickey needs Ian to stop talking. Ian is talking about them running away together and living happily ever after as if it’s actually a fucking possibility. They have an unspoken understanding that this is just sex. They’re not together, there’s no fucking feelings here. Mickey has spent the last year assuring himself that that’s all it is and that he’s following that agreement, even if he’s been ignoring a little voice in the back of his mind telling him that he knows that it’s bullshit.

And now here Gallagher is blatantly ignoring all of it, acting like the two of them running away together is even a remote possibility. He sounds so sure of himself and Mickey realizes that he wants that, even though he’d never fucking admit it to anyone in a million years. Ian is sitting here making inconceivable plans that could never come true, he’s giving Mickey hope for something that can never be real.

“You know it’d never fucking work,” Mickey tries again. “It could though..” and now Ian is babbling on with this ridiculous plan and Mickey is overcome with a feeling that’s not exactly familiar but he knows he’s felt it once before. It takes him a minute to place it but once he does it hits him like a ton of bricks. It’s the same feeling that he had about a year ago when Ian was in his hunting space. When he was making Mickey feel things that he wasn’t allowed to feel and all he wanted was for Ian to leave. Just like last time, it feels like Ian is dangling something in Mickey’s face that he knows he won’t be able to ever have. If that was reaching dangerous territory, this is on another level entirely. Mickey needs him to stop talking before he does something stupid like actually starts to consider it. He punched Ian last time to shut him up and look how that fucking ended. Here they are a year later fucking regularly and now Ian is rambling on about them getting out and starting a life together and Mickey needs it to stop.

“What fucking world do you live in, man?” Mickey cuts Ian off mid-babble.

“Come on, Mick-“ Ian starts.

“No. You think we’re gonna run away together? What? You think we’re fucking boyfriend and girlfriend?” Mickey spits out as he stands up. He hates himself a little as he hears the words coming out of his mouth but he can’t stop. “You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me.” Ian looks absolutely shattered and all Mickey wants is to go back to him, to comfort him, tell him everything is going to be okay, but he knows he can’t do that. 

“Mick-“ Ian starts to say, quietly, his voice sounding just as broken as he now looks, but Mickey can’t let him go on, thinks he might cave if he does.

“No. This is done,” Mickey practically shouts before turning around and storming away, forcing himself not to look back.

———

“And now, for the boys...”

“Mikhailo Milkovich!”

Fuck.

Mickey moves to the stage in a complete daze and once he’s up there the overly peppy escort asks, as she does every year, “do we have any volunteers?” Mickey’s eyes dart to the section of fifteen year old boys and he sees the slightest movement. He forces himself to make eye contact with the redhead and sees that he is about to open his mouth. 

Absolutely fucking not. Mickey shoots him the hardest look that he possibly can. Trying to silently convey that he better not even fucking think about it. What would that look like if Ian Gallagher volunteered in his place? It would raise way too many questions and Mickey would be left alone here to answer them while Ian went off to be killed in his place. And Mickey isn’t sure that he can live in a world without Ian. He’s not letting him do this. Absolutely fucking not. He thinks that he must convey what he intended because Ian closes his mouth and deflates, now just looking heart broken. Mickey looks away quickly, not wanting to see that look on Ian’s face.

It’s not until Mickey is being led off of the stage and towards the justice building that everything that just happened truly sinks in. He was a dick to Ian literally two hours ago. He said horrible things. He told him he was done with him. And Ian was still willing to die for Mickey. Mickey isn’t quite sure what to do with this information or the feelings that it brings.

They should’ve fucking run.

——————————-

Mickey wakes up the next morning in his big cushy capitol bed filled with dread. He knows he had a nightmare last night and he’s honestly thankful that he can’t specifically remember what happened in it. He drags himself to the breakfast table where Svetlana, Ian, and Mandy are already seated.

“Good. You’re here. We talk strategy now,” Svetlana says as soon as Mickey sits down. “So you get three days of training with other tributes. Fourth day in afternoon you go in one by one. Show game makers your skills to get score. Last day is coaching with us then interview,” Svetlana explains. “What skills you have? Do you throw knives like your brother?” She asks turning to Mandy.

“He taught me but I’m not as good as him,” Mandy says.

“She’s good though,” Ian interjects and Mickey vaguely wonders where the hell he and his sister are going within the district to fucking throw knives, “knives are her best bet,” Ian says confidently.

“Ok. And what about you Orange Boy?” Svetlana asks Ian.

“Uh, well I hunt. Bow and arrows mostly.”

“Any good?” Svetlana asks very matter of factly.

Ian pauses for a second like he has to actually think about it and Mickey fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m alright,” Ian says after a moment. Mickey can’t help the scoff that he lets out.

“He’s fucking better than alright. He never fucking leaves a hunt empty handed,” the words are out of Mickey’s mouth before he can even think about it. He notices Ian’s face turn red and Mandy and Svetlana both give him a weird look and he feels himself panic for a second but then Svetlana brushes past it.

“Good. That’s what you show game makers then,” she says.

“Yeah,” Mickey agrees, “but wait until then to show anybody. Don’t let the other tributes see what you’re best at.” Svetlana nods in agreement. 

“Practice things that you need to work on but also stuff that you’re decent at. You don’t wanna make yourselves targets immediately by looking too weak,” Mickey says.

“And remember, stick together. Happy couple,” Svetlana adds.

“Happy?” Ian replies incredulously, looking around to indicate the situation that they’re in.

Svetlana rolls her eyes, “well... in love couple in shitty situation,” she amends and Ian and Mandy both nod. Ian and Mandy finish their breakfast and go into their rooms to change for training. They come out in matching outfits and if Mickey was willing to admit his biggest secret to anyone else he would personally thank Cole for the way that Ian’s clothes hug his body. 

As soon as Ian and Mandy have left for the training center Svetlana turns to Mickey. “Wait a few hours then go to training center.”

“I thought mentors only went with them on the last day?” Mickey replies raising an eye brow.

“Usually. You go today. Size up other tributes. Briefly talk to sister and Orange Boy,” she says with a shrug.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Mickey almost cringes as soon as the words are out of his mouth but he’s all too aware that he doesn’t want to do anything that could make Ian and Mandy’s chances worse.

“Oh? You care about rules now?” Svetlana asks, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, there’s no written rule against it. You go in. Everybody is scared of you. If it looks like you’re teaching our team it will intimidate them without showing off actual skills yet. Make them uneasy. Uneasy people can’t put full focus on training,” she says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Mickey just shrugs. It’s worth a shot.

He waits a few hours then makes his way to the training room. He tries his best to repress a shudder as he takes in the familiarity of the center on his walk there. He opens the door to the training room and slips in quietly. He thinks that a couple of the trainers might notice him but nobody says anything so he guesses Svetlana was right, either it’s not technically against the rules or they’re too afraid of him to tell him to fuck off. He catches sight of Ian and Mandy quickly. They’re together just like Svetlana instructed them to be and they’re practicing setting up traps. Good, it’s something Ian’s good at but not great, it won’t alert the others to them too much in a positive or negative direction. He uses the time to look around at the other tributes.

Most of the guys are bigger than Ian but Mickey figures that could be a good thing. Ian’s way stronger than he looks, if they go in underestimating him maybe Ian could use that to his advantage. Most of the girls are pretty average sized he guesses, thinks Mandy might be able to take most of them. It doesn’t look like there’s any super young kids this year which is good cause he knows neither of them could handle having to kill an actual kid. He notices a few tributes that stand out from the rest.

First, the pair from district one. The guy is bigger than pretty much everyone else, with long hair and arms that look like they could crush your skull if he wanted them to. The girl is small and blonde but there’s a look in her eye that makes Mickey sort of uneasy, like she can’t wait to start killing. He’s almost positive that she volunteered for this. He looks over to the knife throwing station and sees two more girls that he takes note of. Again, they’re both fairly small in size and they’re not even hitting the bullseye when they throw but they’re good enough and they both have a sort of crazy air about them that makes Mickey mark them as threats. His eyes leave them and glance around the room. He notices that at least a few people have noticed him and they definitely look uneasy, maybe Svetlana was right. 

He walks over to where Ian and Mandy are working with their heads tilted close together, they both look up when Mickey gets close.

“The fuck you doing here?” Mandy asks.

“Came to intimidate the competition. Svetlana’s idea,” Mickey shrugs.

“That allowed?” Ian asks.

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Mickey responds, blatantly ignoring that he had asked that same question just a few hours before. Mickey speaks quietly to make sure that nobody can overhear, “how’s the competition looking?” He asks.

“Hard to tell yet, definitely worried about District one,” Ian says. 

“Yeah that blonde bitch is already looking at me like she wants to fucking kill me,” Mandy adds. 

“Yeah, keep an eye on them. Also, the two girls throwing knives. Not sure what districts they’re from but they seem fucking crazy, gotta look out for that,” Mickey tells them.

He talks to them for a few more minutes before deciding he’s been there long enough. “OK I think they’re sufficiently intimidated for the day. Keep practicing but remember what I said, don’t show them your best skills,” Ian and Mandy nod in response. “Alright I’ll see you later,” Mickey can’t help they way that his eyes flick to Ian as he says it and Ian gives him a tiny nod and an even smaller smile, as if he’s telling Mickey that he will see him later but not just at dinner. Mickey can’t help the small smile that appears on his own face as he walks away.

The next few days of training pass quickly and without any real incident. Ian and Mandy have been following instructions and sticking together and Mickey has been going into the training room sporadically like Svetlana told him to. He dreads each day that passes, taking them closer to the start of the games. The only time he feels like he can fucking breathe is at the very end of every day when he and Ian have been meeting in the corner of the patio like they did the first night. They haven’t had sex since arriving at the capitol and it’s probably the longest they’ve gone since this whole thing started, excluding last year when Mickey was in the games, but it hasn’t felt right with everything going on. So at the end of each day they just sit together, sometimes talking about strategy, sometimes talking about random things, completely ignoring what’s actually happening, and sometimes they don’t talk at all. They just sit side by side, soaking up comfort from the other person.

——

On the fourth night after dinner, Mickey sits in the living room with Ian, Mandy, Svetlana, and Cole as they wait around the television for the announcement of the training scores to start. He looks at Mandy and sees that she looks nervous, he remembers that feeling well. If you get a low score you have almost no chance of getting sponsors and it’ll let the other tributes know to take you out early. 

“How’d you do today?” He asks his sister, hoping he can relieve some of her nerves.

“Honestly, I’m not sure it even matters,” Mandy says with a sigh, “they were barely paying any attention by the time I got in there. I threw knives at moving targets and I did well but I’m not even sure if they were watching.”

“Could be worse,” Svetlana says to Mandy before Mickey can respond. “If you did well then they won’t give you low scores. Maybe average. Can still get sponsors that way. I have asked around. They like you and they seem to love Orange Boy so far. Stand out in interviews tomorrow and it shouldn’t be a problem,” she says and it does seem to ease Mandy’s nerves. As if it’s an afterthought Svetlana adds on, “assuming that Orange Boy didn’t fuck up his time with game makers.”

Everyone turns to Ian now and Mickey expects to see him with the same light amount of nervous energy that Mandy had but Ian doesn’t just look nervous, he looks fucking terrified. Everyone else in the room must notice this at the same time Mickey does.

“What’s wrong Ian?” Cole asks at the same time that Mandy says “why do you look so scared?”

Mickey lets out a long suffering sigh. 

“The fuck did you do, Gallagher?”

Now Ian looks both terrified and guilty as hell. “I think I sort threw your whole likable plan out the window,” Ian says quietly, not making eye contact with anyone.

“The fuck did you do?” Mickey asks again.

“Well, I, Uh, I-“

“Spit it out Carrot Boy,” Svetlana cuts in.

“Well, I mean, l went in after Mandy and like she said they weren’t even paying attention!” Ian starts. “They were just talking and laughing with each other and they barely even looked at me. And I started thinking if they’re paying this little attention to district eight what’s it gonna be like for district twelve? It just wasn’t fair!” And wasn’t that the most Gallagher thing Mickey has ever heard? Not even worried for himself, he’s worried for the people that he’s literally supposed to kill in a couple of days. Soft bitch. 

“But I tried to ignore it. I got moving targets and shot arrows and hit the bullseye on every single one and still nobody even looked at me,” Ian continues, “and I just got so mad. I just wanted them to pay attention, I mean they still had eight people to see after me. And every time I looked up there I kept seeing one of them in this stupid fucking hat with this annoying feather that moved whenever they moved or laughed or turned around while ignoring my entire existence and I just couldn’t take it anymore!”

“What did you do, Ian?” It’s Mandy that asks this time.

“I may have shot the stupid fucking hat off the persons head and nailed it to the wall behind them with the arrow,” Ian finally admits, completely red faced. 

Everyone sits in silence for a moment, mouths open in shock before Mandy finally breaks the silence.

“Well, that hat was fucking stupid,” she says matter of factly and Mickey wants to laugh, under any other circumstances he knows he would be but he can’t help think that Ian just signed his own fucking death certificate. The silence continues for a second longer before it is broken abruptly by loud laughter. Mickey turns in shock to Svetlana, who can’t seem to catch her breath she’s laughing so hard and all Mickey can do is stare because he’s never even seen her smile, never heard her put any emotion into her voice and he really does not know what to do with this. After a second Cole starts to chuckle, and Mickey can’t hold it in any longer then all five of them are roaring with laughter for minutes before finally calming down. 

“Did you wait for them to dismiss you, at least?” Cole asks, once they’ve all caught their breath.

“Um, I kinda dismissed myself. They were all just staring at me so I sorta... uh.. saluted..” Ian says, bringing his hand to his head as if demonstrating the salute, “and then walked out.”

“That was stupid,” Svetlana says, “funny. Well deserved. But stupid. Game makers will probably target you in arena now.”

“Well, it’s not like I stood much of a chance anyway,” Ian shrugs. At that moment music begins to play from the TV and they all turn their attention to the screen as the tributes faces are shown along with their scores. The huge guys from district one got a ten, the blonde girl got a nine. Crazy girl number one is apparently from district two and she got an seven. A few more scores pass, nothing super impressive, a few eights, a nine, a couple of sevens. He notices crazy girl number two from five got an eight. Finally it gets to district eight and Mandy’s face is shown, she got an eight. Ian hugs her, Cole congratulates her and Svetlana nods her approval before they’re all turning their attention back to the screen. Mickey can practically feel everyone in the room holding their breath as Ian’s face is shown, it take a moment for the score to be announced, but when it is..

It’s an 11.

Cole and Mandy both cheer and hug Ian. Ian looks like he doesn’t know what the fuck to think. “I didn’t even know elevens were a thing!” Mandy says.

“Looks like they are now,” Svetlana says and her voice is back to being emotionless.

Mickey turns to look at Svetlana, they lock eyes and share a look, Mickey knows that they’re thinking the same thing but he doesn’t want to bring down the mood so neither of them say anything. Everyone settles down a bit and continues to watch the scores being listed. They stay in the living room for a while after that but eventually everyone gets up to go to bed. Mickey is left in the room with just Ian and without either of them saying anything they head to the balcony together and follow it as it wraps around until they reach their corner and sit down side by side.

Neither of them says anything for a few minutes.

“It’s not good, is it?” Ian says after a moment, causing Mickey to look at him in confusion.

“The eleven,” Ian clarifies. “It’s not actually a good thing?” 

Mickey doesn’t know what to say to that and he doesn’t want to scare Ian even more but lying to him sure as shit isn’t going to help anything so after a moment he lets out a quiet sigh and responds.

“Its a target, is what it is,” Mickey says. “This government doesn’t like what they can’t control, Gallagher. It scares them. You weren’t a threat to them before today. Then you decided to nearly take off a game makers head and you became one.”

“Please,” Ian scoffs, “if I wanted his head, he’d be dead right now.” Mickey lets out a little laugh because he knows Ian is right. Truth is, Ian probably deserved the eleven that he got, the kid is fucking lethal with a bow and arrow.

“Besides, does that mean they think they can control you?” Ian asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, they didn’t quite see me coming, firecrotch,” Mickey replies with a smirk. “And they definitely don’t like me but they figured that I was out to keep myself alive and as long as I stay alive I won’t cause problems for ‘em.” Mickey pauses, he knows he should stop there but there’s just something about Ian Fucking Gallagher that makes Mickey do all sorts of shit he shouldn’t.

“You’re not like that, though,” Mickey continues. “You care about more than just yourself. You looked ready to take Mandy and run before your name even got called. You shot a fucking arrow at them because you worried they wouldn’t pay attention to anyone else. The people that are out just for themselves, just to survive, the people like me and Svetlana, those people are easy to control. People with big hearts, people that would rather fight for someone that they love than themselves, people like you. Those people are unpredictable. It’s shit like that that makes ‘em nervous, Gallagher.” Mickey feels like he’s said too much and the bare minimum at the same time. There’s so much more he wants to say to Ian but he can’t find the words, not sure that it would make a difference even if he could.

“You really think you’re only out for yourself, Mick?” Ian asks after a moment.

“Seriously? That’s your take away?” Mickey responds.

Ian just shrugs before he continues talking, “you learned how to hunt at age seven so your family didn’t starve. You taught Mandy how to throw knives just in case she ever needed to know.” Ian pauses as if he has something to add but isn’t sure he should. “You didn’t let me volunteer for you,” he says, voice quieter than before. Mickey doesn’t quite know what to say to that because they’ve never talked about it before. Once Mickey got past his games they largely ignored everything involving the games, tried to act like it didn’t happen. Mickey tries to find the safest response that he can think of.

“And yet you end up here a year later anyway,” Mickey huffs. Ian just hums in agreement and scoots even closer to Mickey. Their sides now completely pressed together. Ian pauses for a second before seeming to make up his mind, then he is reaching over for Mickey’s hand where it rests in his lap and he tangles their fingers together so that they’re fucking holding hands. In any other situation Mickey would push him away and maybe punch him in the face but honestly, he really doesn’t want to so he just lets it happen.

“Maybe we should talk strategy..” Mickey starts, trying to bring some normalcy back to their dynamic. Ian just sighs before speaking.

“I really don’t want to talk about anything right now. Can we just sit here?” He asks it almost shyly, as if he’s afraid of Mickey’s answer. Mickey just nods in response and the next thing he knows Ian’s head is resting on his shoulder and their hands are still tangled together between them and Mickey really doesn’t know what he’s thinking but he just lets it happen. He almost can’t help it as he leans into Ian a little more and they both just stare out into the sky, not saying anything.

Mickey can’t help but think that this is the most intimate thing that they’ve ever done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn’t find a way to insert the other mentioned tributes’ names that felt natural but since it’s from Mickey’s POV I don’t really believe that he would bother to learn their names so just in case it’s never explicitly said the district one tributes are Karen and Jody and the girl from district two is Julia and the girl from five is Kassidi.


End file.
